trauma

You might have noticed something. I haven’t been blogging as much lately. I know it has been weird not to see a blog or two every week. And now it is time to confess to you why. You deserve to know. You read the words I put on here and never judge me, so it is time for you to understand why. I recently sat down with the Boss Bean and she convinced me to tell you all. It may not be funny. It may make you cry. But this is who I am. I put myself out here just as you see me. If ever you meet me in person, you will realize one thing…that this blog is exactly like having a conversation with me. So let’s have a conversation. A confession of sorts. Let’s have a confession of a Fat Girl.

Life for me has not been funny. It really has not. In fact, it has been rather traumatic. I have had a hell of a past 6 months and I tried not to talk about it but let me do a recap: I lost three family members in three months, BFF found a lump in her breast and had to have surgery twice and my Mommy took a horrible fall and ended up in the ICU and then a rehab facility for broken bones. To say my life has not been funny or cheerful is an understatement. I tried to shield you all from how I was feeling but I am not going to now. The last six months made me sad and angry. Losing my BFF’s Grandpa and our sweet Mathew really threw me for a loop. Never have I experienced grief like that. Never have I cried so much. Throw on top worrying if BFF had cancer (she does not) and spending a week with my Mom in a hospital, then you get the stressed out, crying and not so funny Fat Girl. I sat in front of my computer time after time trying to find words to write and ending up shutting it because the words would not come. I didn’t know what to say to you through my tears so I said nothing at all. I ate my feelings and gained a bunch of weight and sat here thinking there is no way you all want to be inspired by the ramblings of a depressed Fat Girl who eats her feelings. I am wrong. You need to see me like this. You need to see me laying on my couch, piles of snacks around me, doing nothing but watching Netflix and reality TV. This is what a traumatic six months will do to me. It makes me fat. It makes me want to hide in my house and not people. It makes me unmotivated, eat a lot of crap and cry. A lot.

Losing Mathew and Grandpa were harder than I thought. Even now, as I sit here and write all these words, tears are flowing down my face. I never realized how hard grief is and how I cope with it. I cope with it by eating. No exercising and eating. Grief and stress are funny things. So to say I gave up my eating plan and quit exercising is a hard thing to admit to you but I did. I really did eat my feelings. I didn’t think you would want to hear how sad I have been. How stressed life made me. How when I sat down to write it made me stressed out. I couldn’t express how I was feeling or make it funny and it stressed me out. So instead, I said nothing. I wrote nothing and that was not fair to you. I have had some fun times and to write about them felt weird. It felt like a lie. I am not going to lie to you, my readers. My life really has sucked for a while and you deserve to hear it. Everyone has times in their lives where it feels like you are at the bottom of a pit screaming and no one can hear your cries for help. Where you paste on a smile to the world and meanwhile inside you are screaming and crying and just want to be held. That was me for a long time. I felt like all I could do was tread the waters of life and keep my head just above so I wouldn’t drown. It was an awful feeling. Being an adult sucks. It really does.

Finally, I realized after talking with Boss Bean and BFF that all I needed to do was to sit here and confess to you how shitty my life has been. I can look back on it now and laugh and make fun of some situations, but before I really could not find the laughter. I could not find the words to tell you that I wanted someone to make it all better. For someone to tell me it would be ok. For me to not have to paste on a fake smile. I wanted to scream in anger. I was angry. I was mad at God, the world, the circumstances. Why would God take Grandpa and then Mathew? Why would he throw so much grief and stress at me all at once? Work suffered. My writing suffered. My weight suffered. But you know what? I made it through. I am still here. All of this may have made me silent for a while but I am still here. Here I am in all my glory… fatter and sassier. I finally was able to reach deep down into that pit and pull out my voice. I grabbed a hold of those words and lifted them to the top, allowing those feelings to wash over me and my fingers to put them on the page for you. Yes, my life was so shitty and traumatic for the past 6 months. Yes, I ate every bit of those feelings and now have to deal with that. Yes, I am still here and ready to put more words to the page for you. This is my confession and I am glad you are still here too.

Oh yeah. I didn’t die today. I lost my voice and my words in grief and anger, but I didn’t die. I am the Fat Girl who CAN survive and eats my feelings Running. The experiment continues…